


Asalandiva

by noobquisition



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blood, F/M, Help, Panic, i read too much DA lore and now i can't stop, or - Freeform, repurpose?, the formless one was just so tempting to expand on, wibbly woddly fadey wadey stuff, y'know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-09 18:09:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11674377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noobquisition/pseuds/noobquisition
Summary: This wasn't supposed to happen.They lurched and shuddered, feeling themselves being pulled in so many directions at once they could barely hold themselves together. If this went on much longer, they would be torn apart, their very being destroyed. They were not a spirit, not really. Their essence would not return to the Fade to reconstruct itself, they would not reemerge centuries later. They would die, in the most basic sense of the word.Cease to be.They would not allow it.





	1. Formless

Sharp, shifting, it twisted and tore.

The Veil, once whole, tearing at the seams, a tapestry coming undone, each stitch ripping in rapid succession. The forms of the Fade twisted and warped, no path to follow, no mind to make it whole. They approached the largest tear, its frayed edges reaching out but brushing against no form. They reveled in the screams from the other side, the mortals they had watched for millennia, shuffling about their meager years like cattle.

To hear again, oh, to hear again, anything other than the noise they made of their own accord in the Fade, or the sound the Veil would make as they plucked at its seams, slowly tearing it apart, one stitch at a time. But it seemed another had beaten them to it. Their prison was falling apart, coming undone by the same magic that made it whole, but it was bitter, bruised, blighted. That familiar magic was tinged with red, broken almost beyond recognition.

But they remembered it, oh, they remembered it. The taste of his magic was not as easily forgotten as their kin. The Great Betrayal had sat snugly at the back of their mind for so long it had grown bitter, corrupt. To watch as their family had been betrayed but the betrayer lived on, basking in his conquest. They had trusted him, once, before his goal had shifted from rebellion to deceit. Before he took the body of one of the People. Before he took the body of the Wolf. A spirit of Pride, no older than they, lost in its purpose, for that was all it ever knew.

Pride was all he had ever known.

It was Pride that brought the Evanuris to their knees, it was Pride that banished the Forgotten Ones to the void. It was Pride that could not wait for them to return to his side before sealing their kin in the Beyond. He had watched  as they wandered back to him, back to their Pride, their purpose. He had stared them in the eyes as he stitched up the Veil, each seam rending them apart from him and trapping them away for eternity.

But now, now, those seams were being torn. They were sliding away, revealing a world they had seen only in the reflections of the Fade, but never tinkered, never touched. They reveled in the sight, green light spilling through the fissure, spirits being forced through and their forms twisting, taking shapes they never desired. The sight of spirits being torn from their world gave them an odd sort of satisfaction. The spirits he had treasured so dearly, damned as his creation tore the skies.

They felt the tear grow, saw the light from below. They felt giddy, finally, _finally_ , they were free. Their shackles cast off and their will no longer sundered between worlds. They felt full, filled to bursting for the first time in millennia. Reawakened, renewed, reinvigorated, oh, they could not wait to find the Wolf and wear his skin. They would have their revenge, the Dread Wolf would pay the price for his betrayal.

And so, they stood on the edge of the Breach, watching as their cage was torn asunder.

* * *

 

_“I have a question.”_

_I drifted lazily past the Wolf, reaching out with a tendril of my aura to tug lightly on his tail and giggling as his ears flicked in annoyance._

_‘You always have questions, my dear Pride.’ I said, voice reaching none but his own ears._

_The Wolf batted my aura with his own as I reached to tug at his new form again, casting me a disdainful look._

_I sighed and settled myself beside him on the grass, pulling on my aura to act as a solid form and lent back into the Wolf’s fur._

_‘Very well, ask your question.’_

_“Why do you not take form, as I have?”_

_A laughed escaped me. ‘Oh, Pride. What a silly question.’ I twisted away from his side and slipped through the air, nothing but a wisp of shadow now curling around the Wolf’s neck and caressed the side of his face._

_‘I am The Formless One.’ I murmured, voice pressed against his ear. ‘To take a body would be against my nature.’_


	2. Faceless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Help  
> This is too fun to write

Agony.

Oh, Creators. The agony was unbearable.

It ripped and tore at them, plucking their spirit apart and tearing their insides out, because there was nothing to keep it _inside_. It wrenched and ruined them, tearing pieces of them apart. They couldn’t reach for their magic to keep them whole because there _was_ no magic. The air was still, silent but suffocating. They clawed at themselves, catching wisps of their aura and spirit, attempting to keep it near, but it was torn from them. Ripped apart like the sky.

This was not supposed to happen.

They had thought the _mortals_ to be cut off from their magic, not the _world_. Not the air that sustained them, kept them whole. Is this what the People had felt when the Veil was raised? This agonizing pain, tearing at their insides, wrenching their very soul from their bodies?

Oh, Pride. What have you done?

They lurched and shuddered, feeling themselves being pulled in so many directions at once they could barely hold themselves together. If this went on much longer, they would be torn apart, their very _being_ destroyed. They were not a spirit, not really. Their essence would not return to the Fade to reconstruct itself, they would not remerge centuries later. They would die, in the most basic sense of the word.

Cease to be.

They would not allow it.

They came to this world, plucked at the pieces of the Veil for _millennia_ to escape _._ And now they were finally here. They would not simply _cease to be_. They refused. They came to seek revenge, to fix what Pride had wrought. They would not simply curl up and _die._

They clawed at themselves again, pulling from the Veil to hold themselves together. The Veil shuddered, twisting and twining to fill the gaps left behind in their spirits wake. But still, it was lacking. There were too many holes, rifts in their being that could not be patched by what remained of the Fade in this desolate wasteland. They pulled harder, feeling the Veil strain against the magic they were pulling from the Fade.

_More._

The Veil stretched and tore, and they felt the holes being filled. But just as they were filled, their spirit spilled out again, like water through a crack.

_More._

They refused to _die._

A thread tore.

_More._

The Veil _snapped_ and shuddered. Erupting in a burst of light as their spirit was filled, full to the brink and over. Spilling but not escaping, held together by skin and bone and flesh as it knit itself together.

And for the second time in their existence, the Formless One screamed.

* * *

 

Solas heard the sound even from his place just outside the Temple.

A scream, if it could truly be described as such. It tore through him like glass. Shattered and shredding, piercing his very being. His pulse jumped, thrumming in his ears to the point he heard nothing else but the sound of his own blood rushing in his veins and the next, anguished, agonizing, _familiar_ scream.

Before he was even aware of making a conscious decision, his body was moving. Legs pounding furiously on the uneven track, his ears straining, stretching his awareness for the next sound, he sprinted towards the Temple. He was vaguely aware of the shouts of Cassandra, Varric and the Herald behind him, but before he could truly process their words, he Fade Stepped through the wreckage of the Temple, and closer to the scream.

Red Lyrium rose up around him like crystalline spires, singing whatever corrupted song they sung. He payed them no mind, and instead pushed through the throngs of mages gathered around the Breach. They stood, stock still and staring just below where the first rift pulsed in the air in the centre of the Temple. When he finally managed to push his way through, he froze and his heart hammered in his chest, the air forced from his lungs.

Below him was a woman. Small and lithe with ashen hair spread out below her on the broken stone where she lay. Pointed ears, pale skin and face bare apart from a smattering of freckles he knew would be there if he only looked close enough. Their favourite form. The one they crafted when he took them dancing, when they wished to touch or feel the world around them instead of simply passing through. Always temporary, and never so solid, only ever seen in parts.

But now it was whole.

_They_ were whole.

But not.

Their form flickered in and out of existence, as if they weren’t quite anchored to one place or the other. Solas rushed forwards, shoving through those gathered but felt his body pulled back suddenly by a firm grip on his arm. He swung his head around to come face to face with the Seeker, a scowl wrinkling her forehead.

“What do you think you are doing, Solas?”

He scowled right back at her and tore his arm from her grip. “I am offering aid to one who needs it, _Seeker_.” He swung back around, away from the Seeker’s enraged expression and white knuckled fist.

He rushed to the elf’s side and cast his aura over her, searching for injuries, for a way to anchor her to this body so she wouldn’t simply slip out of existence. She was here, now. He didn’t know how, but he knew she couldn’t keep herself together without a form to keep her whole. Not when there was so little magic in this world to keep her spirit from tearing itself apart.

He found the holes where the Veil had torn pieces from her spirit and poured magic into her body, sealing the gaps. He felt her aura writhe around and inside her, soaking in his magic. Her form settled, slowly stopped flickering and became whole. Tentatively, he reached out a hand and pressed it to the side of her face, cupping her cheek. She felt… _real_. Not simply a shadow that flittered in and out of reach, not skin half formed that felt like touching the surface of an impossibly thin sheen of ice.

She was whole.

And suddenly she was gone.

Shadow engulfed her body, snaking around her form and covering her from Solas’ view. The shadows shot back through the air, slamming against the cracked stone wall a few yards away. The shadows curled into themselves and she reformed, piercing blue eyes flitting fearfully around her. Her ears pulled back tightly against her head and she bared her teeth, growling, low and primal.

He felt the magic in the air grow thick and heavy, the mages readying for an attack. Solas felt the Herald approach him from behind and he brushed his aura against hers, lightly, just enough to reassure her that he was unharmed.

“Tell them to stand down, Herald. She is no danger, simply frightened and confused.”  He spoke low and smooth, attempting to keep his voice even so as not to startle the woman pressing herself back into the stone so hard, it seemed she wished to be swallowed by it.

The Herald hesitated a moment, glancing between Solas and the elven woman before slowly raising her hand, quietly signalling the mages surrounding her to stand down. Solas could still feel the heaviness in the air surrounding him, but it was more restrained. The mages were on edge, but they would not attack without the Heralds word.

“A friend of yours, Solas?” The Herald asked, sounding both bemused and wary.

He did not take his eyes of the woman pressed against the wall, even as her own eyes were flitting and unfocused. “A spirit,” he lied, “I suspect it was forced through the Breach and took form in its desperation to remain whole.”

“Possession?” she asked.

“No, I believe she is similar to Cole, in that regard. A body formed of her own will, not one that has been stolen.”

He heard the Herald sigh and walk up to stand beside him. “She must be terrified.” She said softly. Then she turned towards him and placed a hand on his arm, “Can you calm her? I need her out of the way so the Breach can be sealed.”

“ _No, this is wrong. Why is it wrong?.”_

Cole appeared beside them, emerging from nothing and the Herald flinched in surprise.

“Cole.” She said, startled. “What are you doing here? I thought you stayed back in Haven.”

Cole shook his head but kept his eyes locked on the new woman. “I heard them, I came to help.”

The Herald frowned and opened her mouth to speak but Cole disappeared again, quickly reappearing half way between them and the other woman.

Coles voice drifted back to him. _“Pulled and plucked, time and time again. Pieces painstakingly picked apart but now everything’s wrong. Why is it wrong?”_

Solas’ jaw clenched and he spun on his heel, quickly disappearing into the crowd.

* * *

 

Looking through water.

That was what it was like. Everything was distorted and each movement in her vision caused ripples to branch out in widening circles. Her head was little more than a spiral of wool, unravelling with each breath of air that didn’t _taste_ like air. Each voice that broke the surface of the water was muffled and distorted, never quite reaching her ears even as she strained to make sense of the world around her.

Dancing. She remembered dancing.

_A sprawling forest of emerald green spread out before her, the leaves dancing to an unheard beat, whispering their songs to the wind. She rested her head on his shoulder, swaying to the song he sung, lilting voice drifting in the crisp air surrounding them._

_A touch, feather light on the silken wings of a raven as it perched on an overturned log beside her. Its breath letting out small sparks of light and a joyous sound bubbled up from her throat._

_The taste of sweetened wine on her tongue. Bitter spirits touched by honey but it still burned as it slid down her throat. She made a face, she knew she made a face. Because his laugh filled the air, deep and inviting, velvet smooth and warm over her skin._

_Ir abelas, ma falon._

This wasn’t _right_.

Snatches of memories of a world long passed, a world that wasn’t _this one_. But they weren’t full, there were gaps in between, lasting minutes, weeks, years, centuries. She didn’t know how big those holes were, only that they _were_. Panic rose like bile in her throat and her eyes flitted from place to place, trying to stop the ripples from widening. Her nails bit into the palms of her hands but the feeling felt foreign, fake, even as blood dripped to the stone beneath her bare feet.

Suddenly there was a hand, reaching out to her through the ripples. Pale and ghostly, but _whole_. She reached back, hearing words wash over her for the first time in what felt like millennia.

_“Memories, flitting, fleeting. A brush of the Ravens feathers, fingers curled in fur. I forgot. How could I forget?_ You didn’t forget, you were Forgotten. But now you found form. You’re not Forbidden anymore.”

Not… Forbidden?

No, that wasn’t right. She was always forbidden, formless without face, without…

…

_Name…_

What was her name?

...

_“Revanas.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I know the Formless One isn't a Forgotten One, they're a Forbidden one, like Gaxkang and Imshael. But I had an idea and I ran with it. As I write more of this, it'll become apparent what those ideas are. For now, just appreciate it for what it is. Which is actually kinda pretty. I'm proud of this, part of it reminds me of how Cole talks and I imagine many spirits or those without form would be kind of similar in their thought patterns. Plus, the way Cole describes things is really pretty and its actually really similar to how I think as well, so it's nice for me to write like this.
> 
> I dunno, let me know if you want more, I guess? I've written bits of this story, so I'd be interested in hearing if anyone else out there is interested in reading more, even if it's just snippets


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